


Love A Shade Darker

by Fame_is_now_Injectable



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst, Dom/sub, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fame_is_now_Injectable/pseuds/Fame_is_now_Injectable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Way doesn't believe in love. He's much more darker then that. *loosely based off of 50 shades*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Generosity gets you nowhere

-Frank-

It's seven in the morning as I'm standing in this dingy bathroom trying to fix my curled edges of my black hair that flips at the nape of my neck. I sigh in annoyance as I throw my hairbrush into the sink. The clunk of the plastic echos heavily on the porcelain causing me to rub my aching temples before running a hand through my longish hair. I roll my hazel eyes as I bite my lip ring without realizing, metal hits enamel and clinks against the nerves of my teeth until I stalk out of the bathroom to look for something that's even semi decent to wear.

My name is Frank Iero, and I'm the guy you should call the best fucking friend out there. God, I really hate my generosity sometimes. I am a senior in college along with my best friend and roommate Bob Bryar, We have lived in this shit hole of an apartment since going into Belleville University almost four years ago.. Maybe you're wondering why I'm up at seven ranting and raving when I should be passed out and don't have class until four. Well, I would say ask Bob, but Bob's currently puking into a fucking bucket and can't move much right now, due to a wild night out with his friends for actually booking a meeting to speak with the Gerard Way of Art Couture, one of Jersey's top art museum owners in the city. The one I'm meeting instead of Bob,

I sigh frustratingly as I pull on a pair of black skinny jeans, and a white V-neck. I throw on some worn down chuck taylors that have seen the gates of hell and back, and I walk out to a groaning Bob on the couch whose greasy blonde hair is sticking to his forehead and sweating profusely from dehydration.

“Ugh, Frank, man, can you not step so loud? It's like big foots jumping on my brain.” he grounds out through gritted teeth before dry heaving once again in this bleach stained bucket next to the pullout bed.

“Maybe you shouldn't of drank the whole fucking bar, asshole. Maybe then you would be able to go see the person who you, yourself booked to meet, instead of throwing yourself at your sleeping roommate at five in the morning begging me to do it for you. You do realize this makes you look horrible in front of the man you're trying to get recommendations from right?” I threw out breezily as he clutched his head.

“Yes Frank, I understand, but you really need to shut the fuck up before my brain leaks through my eyes.” He certainly paints a lovely picture. I grunt and throw a bottle of aspirin his way, barely missing the bucket as I hear the capsules clatter loudly in the bottle that lays on the dirty rug in the living room. He moans again before shifting into the best sitting position he can before throwing a manila folder at the end of the bed along with a tape recorder.

“I have everything done, I'm not that irresponsible when it comes to interviews. Directions are in the folder, along with your questions. Tape everything he says, yeah?” I nod hesitantly at his requests. “Tell me everything when you get back man, I should be living.” he attempts to joke as I scowl again, before taking the car keys and slamming the door behind me. His groans of pain are amusing as I walk down the hall.

I am too good of a friend.

\---

The turn signal of my black mustang seemed deafening as I made my way through the rounded corners of the circled driveway of this high end building as I followed the directions given. The sky scraper glass stood tall and caught my attention as I parked in a seemingly deserted lot on the corner. As I entered, I felt severely under-dressed watching women and men alike in business attire, leaving myself wishing I had brought a blazer or something with me to cover up my torso and make myself look more respectable. A pretty bottle blonde woman stood confident by the marble desk as she popped pink bubble gum against her white teeth.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything, today?” Her name-tag read Cadence and she had honey colored eyes that looked kind, until she looked at what I was wearing, her facade broke for a moment, until she smiled at me eerily.

“Uh, yes, as a matter of fact you can.” I smiled back weakly. “I-well, my roommate had a meeting with a Mr. Gerard Way, but he was unavailable to come today due to- an illness. So I am in his place.” Her manicured nails clicked against the key board of her desk top as she smiled at me sympathetically. She sighed softly before flicking her eyes back to mine.

“What was his name sir?”

“Robert Bryar. Ma'am.” her typing continued.

“Your name?”

“Frank Iero.” she nodded mutely before taking a sip of her coffee and directed me to a seat by the entrance.

“I will speak to Mr. Way about this, but, I will confess, if you are not the person who set the meeting up, he may not see you.” I nodded shifting to the leather seat, folding my hands in my lap, trying not to fidget in worry. I felt my skin grow hot as I realized I wasn't like these people. I had a strange urge to run to my car, go back home, and scream at Bob for putting me in a stunt like this. Yet my motions and thoughts were put to a halt as I saw a man approach me, his pale skin was contrasting against the dark onyx of his suit, his face was deep and angular, his lips lightly pink, as his eyes were a grassy golden hazel. His shoulder length black hair framed his face, he was perfect.

I suddenly found a new reason of why I'm nervous.

“Cadence?” he rasped, as the woman from earlier is by his side dutifully.

“Yes, Mr. Way.” his eyes never left mine.

“Take, Bob is it? -”

“Frank.” I cut in with an eye roll. He looks as if someone had slapped him in the face. Cadence grimaced as she pulled at her light hair as a distraction. He huffs slowly before clasping a hand rough on her shoulder.

“Please escort Frank” he says my name with an irritable sigh. “to my office immediately.” and now I am standing with a nervous little blonde who looks at me with wide eyes and slouching shoulders.

“Cadence.” he calls over his shoulder. She doesn't turn away from me. “cancel all of my other appointments. Please tell Lisa to bring me coffee as well.” His eyes flicker to mine as I swear I see him smirk. She leads me away, and I feel like an asshole.

 

\---

The floors are colder as we go up to the twelfth level on the elevator and Cadence is fuming and almost foaming at the mouth.

“What the fuck is your problem, kid?” she snaps before dragging her manicured hands down her suit blazer.

“Oh, I did something? Sorry that your boss isn't that bright when it comes to names, I mean you must of handed him something saying my buddy wasn't going to be in.” My sarcasm is radiating, and it makes her want to scream.

“No. That was the fucking point. That’s how I got him to see you, idiot!” she grinds her teeth before turning to face me fully. “I can lose my job now because I lied to him. If I do, I thank the kindness of my heart. I know he's hard to book for a meeting so, your friend must be a persistent little annoyance like you.” Damn. I feel like a total dick now, I sigh before looking at her sadly.

“I'm sorry Cadence. If you lose your job it is my fault entirely.” the elevator dings to his floor as I see another blonde, but this time, she's natural, and she's eying me up with a coffee in her hand.

“Are you Frank?” her voice is light and almost grave like. I nod as she rests her hand on my back and pushes me with her.

“He's pissed you know? At Cadence, I mean. She lied to him, and to be honest, that isn't tolerated. Excuse the harshness but I don't know why he wants to see you. Consider yourself lucky.” she taps on the door labeled Gerard A. Way and she hears a muffled come in.

“Morning sir.” her voice is chipper and happy. Definitely a switch from just thirty seconds ago, He smiles at her back, a manipulating smile graces his lips.

“Good morning Lisa. Please escort yourself out.” he sounds demeaning as he dismisses her with a flick of his hand after she sets his coffee down before his eyes lock cold and wired on mine. She scoots past me and closes the door behind her. I don't move. It's a stare down and we're tied.

Take a seat. Frank.” I shuffle to his seat and rigidly sit down. I feel my hair falling over my eyes I forget to breathe. Something is different about this guy and I don't like the feeling in my stomach.

“I hate liars.” he says suddenly making my heart pound. “but, I hate punks even more.”

“I can leave, I'm not stupid.” I find myself saying to this money hungry prick. He chuckles darkly and sips his coffee.

“Did I say to leave, Mr. Iero?” he says my last name without hesitation and a draw while I see he has something in his hand.

“How did you know my last name?” he flicks the file over to me as I see it's got every piece of school information on there. What? I see my transcripts, my grades, my teachers comments, all from my years at university, along with the local colleges I was apart of. I'm a little freaked out to say the least. He smiles a little more, showing his teeth as I close it with force.

“Confused?” he mocks as he takes it back and I place my folder down.

“We're aren't here to talk about me, Mr. Way.” I spit his name like something vile. He doesn't flinch. “I'm here because my friend is sick at home, and he wouldn't miss meeting you for a second, although, I don't see why, you're a prick with too much power.” he is unaffected by my blunt wording.

“Owning a multimillion dollar company will do that to a man I suppose. You're friend I take it is an art major?”

“Art, and literature.” he nods as I take out the questions and tape recorder.

“Taping me? I can have you arrested.” he smirks.

“We're not talking drugs, sex, or any other illegal activities, sir.” I drawl out.

“I suppose.” he stares at me coolly before I gather the paper in my hands.

“Do you like blondes? That's my own question. Not on the sheet.”

“Who wouldn't want blonde women working for them?" It's a statement, a rhetorical question. "They throw themselves at me and do what I ask.”

“Jackass.” I mutter.

“Get on with it.”

“Who inspired you?” I start the tape recorder as his gaze softens and a light genuine smile catches my attention.

“My grandmother, she was beautiful. She taught me everything I know. Art, reading, writing, drawing. There was never anything I couldn't do when she was there. She got me started, but it's a shame she didn't get to see me finish. She was lovely, kind and gentle.” he looked saddened for a moment, before snapping back to reality.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Do you want to dive into that further?”

“I am not married, Mr. Iero, I don't care to be, next question please.” I struck a nerve, I can tell.

“Are you living how you want?”

“I have money, power, luxury, a beautiful house and fancy car, you do the math.”

“When working by your own standards, can you improve them?”

“Always, Mr. Iero, there is no room for trial and error when running a business, I work my hardest to keep myself, and others employed in this shitty economy, everything is paid and on time, punctuality is something I do best.” Next question, I guess.

“Are you...” I stopped, his gaze is on me, and I can feel it. “are you-” the word doesn't come out and I don't want it too. My breathing quickens as I wish it were Bob here instead of me.

“Am I what, Mr. Iero?” his voice snaps me out of my nervousness.

“Are you gay?” I don't meet his eyes, yet I can see his hands stiffen.

“Is that for your benefit or is it on the paper?” his voice has a biting edge and I really want to stop. I move my finger to the recorder and slam the red button down.

“Paper, sir.” my voice betrays me, and he laughs. Emotionless. “I don't see how that could be a question someone would dare to ask.” I cover quickly

“You should of read the questions beforehand.”

“I didn't write it. Hell, I didn't even know it was on there. Even I know when shit gets to personal.”

“Enough, Frank.” he shushes me as he's studying the busy streets from the window pane and he clasps his hands behind his back. He says my name with no malice, he just says be quiet as he catches a picture with a bittersweet look and I'm sitting there awkwardly with a very rich man who can ruin my life with a snap of his fingers.

“I apologize for my friends idiotic behavior.” I feel guilty. Whether he gay is or isn't gay is neither my, or Bob's business.

“Are there other questions?” There is a lot more, but they aren't related in anyway to the topic of who he is and what he's doing.

“I'll leave, sir.” I get up hastily, trying to avoid him.

“Answer me.” his voice is harsh.

“Unrelated.” I say simply. He nods.

“Don't leave. I'm not done with you yet.” I stare in disbelief and sit back down, not looking at him. He stares at me before speaking.

“So, Frank, tell me about yourself.” that alone catches my attention. I stare at him wide eyed and realized something as I saw an old picture that he was looking at moments before, it looked to be old and faded as it sat in the wooden frame, It was my art teacher, Ms. Rush, her hands wound around a younger Gerard's shoulders. If I remember, her name was Elena. I froze as it clicked in my mind,. All the while as I stared at Gerard's slow predatory smirk.

Elena Rush was his late grandmother.


	2. Like Moths to Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weakness is strength in disguise.

-Frank-

The apartment door slams with a click as I walk inside and the deadbolt locks in place. I overhear the sounds of gunshots vibrating through our thin walls of the living room, Bob is sitting there, in the same clothes he slept in. His fingers are moving furiously along the plastic buttons of his paddle as he's shooting zombies. He's alert, and looking less like shit as I reach over and slap him hard on the back of the head, causing the X-Box 360 controller he was holding to drop to the floor with a thud, and the words “GAME OVER” dripping onto the screen in three dimensional blood. His gaze shifts to me as a grunt of dissatisfaction slips passed his lips.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I was on a three-hundred and counting kill streak, dick head!” he's angry. The look on my face sure enough makes him repress his rage as confusion takes over in his eyes.

“What's the matter? Did the meeting go over alright?” he's concerned for himself, for his grades, it all depends on this semester to determine whether he graduates or continues another year at University. I'm shaking as I throw the manila folder and the piece of shit tape recorder down on the couch.

“Fuck you.” I spit dangerously. “Do you know what it's like to go into Jersey's top museum owners office and ask him, 'oh, Mr. Way, are you gay? I need to ask this because my fucking idiot friend doesn't think before he fucking writes something down.' are you serious Bob? Are you brain-dead? Do you know how disrespectful that is?” Bob's eyes flash guiltily as he takes the recorder from its place.

“Did he answer?” I punch him hard in the arm. Muttering curses and swearing him to hell every step to my room. He doesn't move, and I just sit on my bed in a trance as I replay the ending of the interview.

-Flash Back-

“Tell me about yourself.” Gerard asks. I stare at him.

“There isn't anything to tell you. Nothing you seem to not know anyhow.” I fire venomously.

“You know, my grandmother used to go on and on about you. I had no idea who the hell you were and she would talk to me about you like you two were life long friends. Frank Iero. She said your name like she was spitting gold and bleeding diamonds. I had never seen her so happy. Now that I meet you? It kind of makes me sick, seeing such a lowlife kid sitting across from me who won over my naive family member like you were loading up a gun. How easy was it?” He laughed humorlessly. “I read her comments to your work over and over on those transcripts. She thought you had talent.” he almost snorted.

“Elena loved me, Gerard.” I muttered staring at his flawless desk. His name felt foreign speaking it. His hands found the armrests of the chair I was sitting in, forcing me to slouch down as his nose barely hit mine. His eyes were so cold, glassy and deadly. I felt my mouth grow dry as his lips barely hit my earlobe. I felt his breath so faintly on my scorpion tattoo at the top of my throat. Blood pumped forcefully through my body. I felt my heart slam against my ribcage, I swore Gerard heard it too.

“Never speak her name, or my name again, you little hood rat. So help me god, I'll ruin those tattoos you call 'art'” his fingers formed quotes around the word. I wanted to vomit. “Don't test me, Iero.” he whispered.

“You aren't worth my testing you.” I spat coldly at him. “You aren't worth anything other then your networth. Without Elena you'd have nothing.” I hit him hard as I saw him flinch. It was true. We both knew it. “She was like a second mom to me. Despite her age, when she died, my life went with her. She knew everything about me. We were family, Gerard. We were close, and you can't handle that. I may not have talent to you, but to her? I had the fucking world in my hands. I still do. Whether you think so or not, I believe her. She would be disgusted with you right now. I may be a hood rat, but she saw something. Open your fucking eyes. Maybe someone would care about you.” I threw myself upwards hitting his chest with mine loosely as his fingers brushed over my wrist.

I walked out. Leaving Gerard Way stunned and silenced.

I didn't look back.  
\---

“Was he a nice guy?” Bob asked cracking his knuckles before grabbing the crust of the overly greased pizza in front of him.

“No, he was arrogant. Think of yourself as lucky for not meeting the jerk-off. Better yet, I wish you did.”

“From what I gathered with the recording he seemed pretty sure of himself.”

“Full of himself.” I corrected.

“Whatever. I'm bullshitting this assignment anyway. I just needed him to credit.” I gazed at him in disbelief. Something finally clicked.

“You planned this, didn't you?” I asked slowly. My eyes catching with his.

“Pretty smart, aye?” he smiled innocently before taking a disgusting mouthful of cheese and scarfing it down.

“Goddamn it Bob, what the fuck? You made me sit there with an asshole for two FUCKING hours because you knew your assignment would be done?!”

“I wasn't gonna do it.” he defended. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the knife in my hand, the very same that was about to go in his throat in minutes if he didn't stop talking,

“I'm going out. Have fun doing your report.” wood crashed against wood harshly as my chair collided with the old decaying wood of the table.

“Frank- Frankie, come on dude, I was just fuckin' around, man. I didn't mean it!” I ignored his pleas and grabbed my jacket. Barely hearing his repeated apologies.  
\---

It was around eight at night as I stepped out into the summery-fall air, the smell of ember and cigarette smoke filled my nostrils. My converse stomping the gravel of the broken pavement as I walked to the only place that could relax me. Starbucks. I worked there and have ever since I was sixteen. I was allowed in whenever I felt like it because my boss Marcus knew about my home-life. He was a typical broad built guy, he looked like a football star, he had messy blonde hair and dark blue eyes and he looked like the type of guy who bullied kids in high school, but he surprisingly was bullied himself. So we had an understanding I guess you could say, both being outcasts.

Getting there in fifteen minutes I saw Marcus scrubbing down the counter tops with a magazine laying lazily by the register. I opened the door as the ring of the bell sent Marcus's eyes in my direction. He smiled as I came in and threw my coat on the rack. He threw the rag in the sink and took a seat in front of me, flicking on the coffee maker and making me a decaf cup of bitter black liquid.

“What happened, or do I not need to ask?” he slid the cup towards me. So I told him. I told him everything, about Bob and his scam I stupidly fell for, my meeting with Gerard and almost getting his receptionist fired, I told him about the question that almost made me run out of his office, and finally, I told him about knowing Gerard's grandmother on a personal level and how I considered her family, leaving out the threatening nature of her successful grandson.

“Jesus, Frank. You've really had a hard day.” he mumbled as he took my now empty cup of coffee to the sink, “You don't have to come in tomorrow if you don't want. I can take your shift.”

“No, Marc, seriously. Everyone has an off day, besides, this is where the hood-rats reside. Along with the fact that It was only a day, and it was a day I don't want to relive at all.” I sighed running my fingers against my scalp. Marc smiled.

“I get you, I'm just trying to help and give you some breathing time. If you ever need any days off, let me know, I know you're graduating in a few months. So, whenever you need a break, you got it.” I smiled in thanks.

I bid him goodbye as I told him I would see him for my afternoon shift the next day. He mumbled something I couldn't make out as I pulled the door shut behind me.

Walking back to the apartment in a slight daze, Gerard kept slipping into my conscience. Something about him was so intimidating yet I was drawn to him like a moth to a light. Even when his personality cruel and harsh, I couldn't get him off of my thoughts.

Well, at least it would be the last time I would see him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the likes and comments.
> 
> Enjoy!


	3. Barista Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking down is a beautiful thing according to Gerard

-Frank-

The smell of coffee caught in my nostrils as the ring and bustle of cash registers and my fellow employees yelling orders out to the patrons moved all around me. Working at a coffee shop, let alone a Starbucks was never easy, it was active throughout the day, and nearly dead at night. Such a quick transition to a high and low. It was around noon or a bit over, and the lunch rush was in full swing as I was handing back change to the customer in front of me. Her name was Lindsey, she was a rather short looking girl with long black hair, cherry red lips, and a guitar case swung around her back. She was a regular and usually stayed around until my break and we would shoot the shit until she had to leave. She was the bassist of a band called Vienna Lies. I saw her performing last spring at a battle of the bamds type gig. She caught my eye right away as her and I shared a common interest of music. I played rhythm guitar for a band called Pencey Prep in the same show. Granted, neither one of us got the title along with my band ending shortly after but her and I did get a friendship, and I'm perfect with that.

“Hey Frankie baby!” she greeted hugging me, pecking me lightly on the cheek. Her sleeve tattoos vibrant and beautiful against her pale skin. Her notebook out and filled with words and phrases, chances are, another new song was in the mix.

“Sup Lyn?” I took a seat across from her as Marcus threw me a knowing look. I rolled my eyes and smiled.

“Working on the new works for the band. How are you doing with work and school? I take it juggling Bob isn't easy either.” I nodded biting into my lip ring, I was still pretty mad at Bob for the little stunt he pulled days back. Gerard Way still didn't leave my thoughts. My emotions are frazzled and frayed, I can't stand him, but I can't stop seeing his face every time I close my eyes.

“School's fine, works work, Bob's an annoying little fucker on top of being a scam artist.” and I was off at that moment, telling Lindsey everything. Every little look, detail, and feeling. Gerard's words were still fresh as I recited them over and over like a mantra. It was a brutal dig, I was angry, upset, more-so disgusted by the fact he was the grandson of the most well respected women I had ever known next to my mother. She listened in shock and wonder, how I wasn't in prison yet was beyond her as she tried to make a semi-joke out of it. We both knew confrontation was never my strong suit for being calm. When I was young, I was arrested and charged for fighting on an almost daily basis.

To this day, I don't know how my mother is sane after all the shit I put her through. I was a horrible son, but she never stopped loving me and I was forever grateful. Time flew by as Lindsey smiled in sympathy and cut off my rambling as it was nearly sunset and she needed to get home. I realized soon that my shift had ended and Marcus took over for me. Fuck, and now on top of all this I am a horrible employee.

\---

“Marc, I am so sorry!” I muttered slipping into his office as I clocked out on my time sheet. He smirked at me as his shoes were propped up on his desk. He lit up a smoke and leaned against the window, puffing the gray clouds from his parted mouth so it would exit out into the color splashed sky.

“What did I tell you, Frankie? I don't care. You needed this. Besides, Ms. Lindsey was offering her ear. Why would I take you away from a friend who you talk to on a daily shift.” I smiled, he was a great boss. He offered me a cancer stick and shooed me out of his office to lock and clean up shop to make up for not getting back to my actual shift, which I was alright with. It's the least I could do after all he's done for me.

As I walked to the front of the shop I started to scrub the coffee stained counters with cleaner, the lights flickering back in reflections from the clean surface. I heard the bell from the door signalling a new customer chime in my ears.

“Sorry we're closing,” I muttered the rehearsed line not looking up.

“What a shame, Mr. Iero. Your place looked so inviting as I saw you through the window.” the familiar sarcastic voice rang out to me. I met their gaze and dropped what I was holding to see none other then Gerard Way standing before me. His tie had been loosened as his shirt was unbuttoned slightly revealing a black undershirt.

“Oh, we're definitely closed.” I replied louder.

“I beg to differ.” he countered stepping to where I was standing. The only thing standing between us was the reflective yellow stained marble I was leaning against.

“Did you know I worked here? Or is this a completely 'innocent coincidence?'”

“Frank, you do realize this dance we're doing is getting us nowhere. Now be a good barista boy or whatever the hell you are and serve me. I'll leave.” I glared at him, he smirked realizing he won and I reached for a Styrofoam cup.

“What can I get for you?” I forced a smile on my face and tapped my fingers on the marble.

“Tall Mocha frap. That's easy enough for you isn't it?'

“Bite me.” 

“Oh, Mr. Iero, that's no way to behave to a customer.”

“Neither is belittling and degrading the people handling your food or drink.”

“I could have you fired if you so much as breathe on it.”

“I could have you banned. Wanna try me?” I wanted to fucking hit him, I wanted to see him drop to the ground in tears like the little bitch he was. He laughed breathlessly it was almost seductive as a shiver coursed up my spine, I felt myself blush as I topped off his drink and slid it into his pale hands.

“Here.” I mumbled. I heard him take a gulp as I watched his Adam's apple move in sync with his sips.

“Thank you.” his tone was smooth and relaxed. After what seemed like an eternity I heard the shuffle of shoes on the linoleum floor towards the exit.

“Mr. Iero?” he called to me. I looked into his hazel eyes from across the room. “To answer your questions from earlier, I knew where you worked, and I have for a few days.” I felt my face heat in as a weird flutter entered my chest. My eyes glittered in confusion as he smirked at me again.

“Have a nice night.” he breathed stepping out to the now darkened sky. I stared at the spot where he stood long after the doors closed behind him.

I barely missed the fifty dollar tip he left me, as well as the note underneath it.

'Breaking down is a beautiful thing. -G'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short! I figured where I ended was perfect.


	4. Pumpkin Pendant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard's a smug son of a bitch. I think Frank likes it.

-Frank-

One Month.

It had been a month since I have seen Gerard in the coffee shop, it was now the twenty-fifth of October and he didn't come in once and I don't know how to feel. Even LynZ had stopped coming in, which was never weird because she was always a little more busy when working on albums with the band. The clouds hung gray and bleak in the air spraying raindrops against the glass is messy splatters. There was nothing to do but sit and stare at the empty tables usually filled with people for coffee and whatever other shit we'd sell. It was depressing really, even Marc was crashed in the back offices snoring hazily in oblivion. I sighed, jumping off the stool, my dirty converse hitting the tiles with a tiny clunk of my old soles. 

“Marc.” I called stepping into his office. He awoke with a jolt and immediately began to shuffle papers to make it look like he was working. His wired eyes found mine as he dropped the papers and relief washed over him.

“Frankie, what's the matter? You scared the shit out of me!” he scolded. His messy hair flinging in his eyes.

“I scared the worker out of you, boss.” I snickered. “Anyway, this place is basically dead and has been for the passed three hours. Is it cool if I leave?”

“No problem. Go on, I'll lock up shop, you look like you haven’t been to sleep in awhile anyway.” I nodded in appreciation. Truth is, I haven't been sleeping and I usually never do, being an insomniac in Catholic school, some things never change.

“You're too fucking good to me man.” He laughed and told me to leave and to call him when I got home because of the rain.

I smiled and left his office to retrieve my hoodie and my skeleton gloves from mine. It was really coming down now and I felt a weird chill enter my body. Nothing was out of place as I stepped into the front of the shop, but something was off.

“Marc! I'm out!” I called again, no response. I shrugged my heavy shoulders and walked into the chilly rain filled air. The water soaked through my hair and body as I shivered again. Reaching around in my pocket for my car keys, I unlocked my door seeing a crumpled piece of paper on the windshield, completely dry and out of the rain splatter.

I rolled my eyes thinking it was a speeding ticket, I tossed it in the passenger seat and heard a strange clang as it hit the hard plastic. I reached for the paper again and unfolded it, a tiny piece of metal slipped into my fingers. Flicking it in my palm, it was a tiny jack-o-lantern pendant. My jack-o-lantern pendant. I touched the chain around my neck, feeling nothing in the middle where the pendant usually lay. I looked at the paper again, seeing familiar messy scrawl etched on.

'I figured you'd want this back. I saw it fall as you went into work. Halloween seems like a pretty big deal, seeing as you have it tattooed across your knuckles as well. I'll see you soon Frank Iero, don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you and I know you haven't forgotten about me either.' -G

\---

I shucked my converse off at the door and threw my hoodie on the rack beside me as I saw Bob on the phone sitting lazily on the couch. His eyebrows knitted together and he was staring at me intently. We had been getting along better and I wasn't as mad for making me meet Gerard. In reality, I kind of want to thank him

“Who is that, Bob?” I asked aloud as he held one finger up.

“Yes, sir, thank you for calling. No, it was no problem at all. I'm glad I could be of help. Yes, have a good night too. Thank you. Good bye.” he hung up and looked at me again, eye brow raised,

“Who was that?” I asked again.

“Gerard Way.”

“What did he want?” I scoffed, “how the hell did he get our number anyway?”

“To know more about you. I put the number on the transcripts that got sent into him, I didn't think he'd call.” his voice was monotonous yet he spoke volumes.

“Me? Why me?”

“You intrigue him.” he answered simply.

“I'm a lab-rat. Lovely.”

“I didn't tell him much, roommate/best friend confidentiality.”

“What the hell did you tell him?” I asked shifting my weight to the balls of my feet.

“Elena meant the world to you. She gave you the strength to go to school and do better. Things along those lines.” he left me more confused then before.

“He asked me how close you actually were. I vouched for you. He thought you lied.” I wanted to hit him again.

“Just because I'm not as rich as that asshole. Doesn't mean I would lie about her. I loved her like my own mother!” I felt myself pace throughout the tiny space as Bob kept looking at me, it felt as he knew something I didn't. A nervousness went through me as he rose to go into his room.

“Just wait a little while Frank, Gerard has something planned for you on Halloween.” Bob's eyes locked with mine through the darkness of the room. The light illuminated his eyes, making the blue iris pop against his darkened features, my mouth agape as I realized it was six days until my birthday and the door slammed shut as soon as I looked in his general direction.

That must have been the last thing Bob told him.

I felt a delicious feeling pang throughout my body as I realized I was excited to see Gerard Way again.

Oh god, what is he doing to me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love for my readers to give me some input so I can incorporate what you all would like to see considering this is for YOU. :)
> 
> Fall Out Boy's song "Sugar we're going down" will play a big role in later chapters.
> 
> Sorry for the length again :(


	5. Well Past Midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are not afraid of the dark, we are afraid of the unknown. -anonymous

-Frank-

It's quiet throughout the apartment as I can hear Bob's steady snores on the couch and smell the alcohol radiating to my room. The moon is full and the sky is black with no stars sparkling white to contrast it. The shadows cast against my window pane are awful, and even as I am almost twenty three I still get prickles of fear from watching one to many late night horror flicks as a kid. The wood creaks and groans from being old and worn and the house shifts in motion settling into the night.

I'm restless as if a current is running through me, my head is foggy and my thoughts are jumbled. I run my hands through my hair, dragging my nails against the shaggy knotted edges at my neck. I slip my feet into my converse, not even bothering to change out of the pajamas I'm wearing. I walk through the darkened living room as Bob's snoring becomes even more deafening. It's so hard to navigate around the pitch blackness so I feel my way around the room finding the door within a minute or two. I slip out into the dead of night without a sound.

The air is dense and lingering on a cold chill as everything seems frozen in time. I feel as if I'm walking in circles because most of the street lights are busted and the only way I see my surroundings is the moon above my head, shedding a pale silver glow on almost everything in my view. The shadows flickering around morbidly and I feel a cold sweat gather on my neck. I feel myself grow even more paranoid now as my breathing quickens and my pace becomes faster on the side walk.

I feel myself want to fall forward and let my paranoia eat me alive like it usually does, pulling me into a space in my head where my thoughts are yelling at me to do anything lifelike and not lay there like a pretty corpse. I want to stare at the bleak dark sky in a haze why my thoughts go a million miles a minute, trying to catch my breath and stop the burning in my lungs.

There's a slight rustle of groaning metal from the breeze in the air and I jump out of my skin. It's just the swing set of the local park I would come to as a child. I would throw myself against the wind and watch myself crash backwards and repeat my actions. The seat is cold even through my sweats and the swing groans even louder as my weight switches. It's like these swings haven’t been used in years, even though the park itself isn't as damaged as the rest of the neighborhood.

It moves me back and forth sullenly as I'm not even paying attention to my feet barely hitting the wood chips that are moist by morning dew from the grass blades around it. My thoughts echo like explosions in my head, although I'm not reeling from stress and itching to become free of those four concrete walls encasing me into a shithole apartment for the rest of my life. The linked chains of the swings are cold against my palms as I wrap my fingers around so I balance better.

My fingers twitch for a cigarette; I crave the cancerous smoke entering my lungs, so I do just that and remove a cancer stick from the almost empty pack and spark it up, the lighter glowing a dim orange.

The smoke feels good entering my lungs as I inhale deeply, feeling my chest swell along with it. As I exhale my mind starts to buzz in relaxation and there are no anxious feelings swimming in my head anymore. It's almost serene, peaceful. As if nothing can ruin my moment of silence. My breathing comes out shaky in a euphoric state as my eyes peel open, and everything is ten pounds lighter.

Smoke is all I taste as the nicotine sticks to the back of my throat where the burn of the poison is trapped for as long as I can hold it before exhaling out of my nose and I feel the familiar sting, almost like water as it hits the scar of my old piercing and I flinch. My vision sways as I feel a head rush coming on. I lull to the side lazily, not taking my eyes off the blackness in front of me. That is until I feel a faint sensation of warm breath against the pulse point on my neck.

My heart beat slams in my chest and I feel my ribcage vibrate with an unknown emotion. Everything feels hot and sticky along with it being hard to breathe. Paralysis creeps into my bones as my muscles are screaming to turn around. I hear a dark chuckle and it sends a jolt down my skin. I feel calloused fingers trace my collarbone at first; slowly then working upwards pressing my pulse lightly as it pounds harder then I want it to.

“Frank.” they speak, and a voice gruff and dangerous fills my ears as my heart sinks into the pit of my stomach as I realize who it is.

Gerard.

His fingers wander over my jawbone; it's relaxing and maybe even erotic at how smooth and fluent his actions are. My cigarette is dangling from slightly parted lips threatening to fall at any moment. His thumb traces my lower lip, nails scraping against the sensitive nerves before I feel the cancer stick being plucked away as I exhale the smoke I didn’t realize was still trapped in my lungs.

“Smoking kills. Didn't you know that?” His voice is mocking and slows as he circles around in front of me and takes a drag of the stolen cigarette.

“We all gotta die somehow.” I retort, my voice is strained and rough. Not as bad as the man in front of me but close enough to make him smirk wider. He twists the cigarette towards me and pushes it through my lips and without thinking, I inhale. Then it's brought back to his lips as I watch his tongue snake around the filter and right then and there I thank god it's night so that my reaction is well hidden. We repeat the silent game between us till the cigarette is almost down to the filter and Gerard gets last hit. Not that I care. I feel too sick with myself to move. His last inhale is long, it takes a good ten second before he throws the, now down to the filter, cigarette in the grass.

His hands tilt my chin upwards to look at him, his hair looks sleek in the dull colors of the moonlight and his skin is barely visible aside from the sliver shown. He pries my lips open with his fingers and I oblige unknowingly as to why. Our noses brush against each other and his lips part and connect with mine as the trapped smoke billows from Gerard's lungs into mine. The smoke taste heavy on my tongue, apart from the alcohol on Gerard's breath

I want to moan as I feel the warm tip of his tongue grazing my top lip. Gerard's hand stroked my cheek almost longingly, as if he was deep in thought. I felt myself squirm as my cock hardened fully and I suddenly had the strongest desire to have the man in front of me slam his cock in my mouth until I choked and sputtered and he moaned above me.

“Get home, Frank. It can get...dangerous out here late at night, when no one’s around to hear you..someone scream.” his voice was thick with lust as he spoke, causing me to shiver and my dick to twitch forcing me to close my eyes to block out the dirty things twisting in my thoughts.

When I opened my eyes a minute later, he was gone without a trace, maybe I imagined it and it was just from lack of sleep, but then I exhaled smoke from a phantom cigarette and looked down at my still hard cock and realized it did happen. Now I had a problem to take care of…

with thoughts of Gerard Way imprinted in my memory of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't already, check out momiji_neyuki's work. She's really fucking fantastic. Shout outs to you for this chapter work! <3


	6. Birthday Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprises await Frankie on his 22nd Birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just wanted to apologize for such a long wait, I wanted to post this chapter on my Birthday tomorrow, but I didn't want to wait anymore! I don't know how to feel with this chapter. For me, I liked it. So lemme know what you think! sorry for any confusion

Bob was fucking annoying. 

It's two in the morning, and officially Halloween, also known as, My twenty second birthday. I was laying in my bed, lulled to sleep by silence, that is, until my fucktard room-mate comes in like hes in the SWAT team banging on pots and pans, jumping on my comforter covered body screaming “WAKE UP.” like a kid on fucking christmas.

“I know what fucking day it is, retard. My mom was in labor and had me, on, well whatdya know, This. Exact. Day. Speaking of which, It's two in the fucking morning, and I am exhausted, why are you here? If I did this on your birthday I would be punched in the mouth.”

“Oh shut up Frankie! I just wanted to be the very first one to wish it to you! Can't say I didn't have good intentions.” he smiled and I sighed, he had a point. 

“Well, thank you, Bob, that's insanely nice and all, but I swear to god if you don't get out in the next ten seconds, I will personally kill you and make it look like an accident.” he smirked and ruffled my hair, banging the pan in his right hand with a spoon in the other to the base of my ear. Then, he ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

So much for sleep now.

I grabbed my phone off the charger and I checked the messages. 

'15 Unread Texts.' All of them ranging from “Happy birthdays” , from acquaintances at university, to more personal messages from LynZ and my family. One of the last ones caught my eye. It was a number I didn't recognize.

'Happy Birthday, Frankie. Be on the look out.'

Look out? For what? I put the phone down on the table and laid back in my bed, the feeling of knowing who texted me but praying I was wrong was eating my thoughts, it eventually made me slip into unconsciousness. With more visions of him in my head.

Xxx

My eyes cracked open to the sound of Bob cursing like a sailor as I heard something clang to the ground. I stretched myself into a standing position and walked out to see what kind of shit he got into now. Smoke billowed from a pan as the smell of burnt eggs entered my nose. 

“Shit, you weren't supposed to know I was cooking. I wanted to surprise ya and say I'm sorry for waking you up at two AM. I forgot to mention, my cooking skills blow.” I laughed.

“At-least you didn't burn the apartment down, but I appreciate the sentiment. Thanks dude.”

“No worries. Happy birthday.” he pulled a carefully wrapped package from out of the drawer. Placing it in front of me. I stared at him carefully. Before tearing at the wrapping paper. Inside was a white box. I lifted the lid, not sure what to expect, by the way Bob's eyes never left mine, with a poker face expression. 

Inside, were fingerless gloves with a deep purple skeleton trace along the back of the hand, fingers, and down the wrist. I was in awe. Thinking back to my first pair, that got ruined. It made me miss them. I always wanted to buy a new pair, but never got around to doing it. I got up and hugged Bob who blushed and patted my back awkwardly. Honestly shocked, he paid attention.

“Thank you so much, this is a rad gift. It means a hell of a fucking lot coming from you.” Bob shrugged.

“I figured you wanted another pair. They are pretty rad. Now come on, birthday boy, considering breakfast was a bust, I'm taking you out.” slipping on the gloves, and my jacket, I followed Bob to his jeep and we were off to the local Jersey Cafe.

It was getting to be a really kickass start to my birthday.

 

-Time Lapse-

the sky darkened significantly from the early morning sun I woke up to. It felt as if we were out for a few minutes, rather then hours. Bob ended up taking me all over town. Going to random bars to see some punk bands who were trying to become famous. It really made me feel at home, and alive, to mosh and let go of my inhibitions and just enjoy becoming older. I wasn't a teenager anymore, so it was hard with school and work to have a social life. Bob seemed to be enjoying himself too, talking to a familiar looking blonde who I couldn't place, but was sure I knew. He got her number, and I went out for a cigarette before Bob was looking for me to take me back to our place a few minutes later.

We were back at our apartment by ten, and I was too wired to sleep, we turned the corridor and saw a package at the door. My eyes darted to Bob who silently rejected himself buying me anything other then my gloves. I curiously checked for a tag, or a return to sender address but found nothing. So we took the box into the kitchen, I grabbed a blade, cutting through the opening and peering in.

“What is it, dude?”

“Beats me.” I opened the box further, before seeing some of the nicest clothing I have ever looked at. Black jeans and a blood red button down shirt, and a men's silver ring with an onyx stone. With a simple note that said 

'Be ready by 11.'

I glanced at the clock and it was ten thirty. 

“Nice clothes.” 

“You sure you didn't know about this?” Bob shook his head.

“If I knew, I would've told you. Are you gonna get dressed? I mean, where are you even going?”

“Guess I'll find out soon.” I replied before slipping into the bathroom and redressing in the clothes that fit perfectly, even the ring, that I hate to admit, I really like. I glanced in the mirror and smiled at my appearance, It felt different. It felt right. I stepped out of the bathroom and Bob whistled lowly.

“Damn Frankie! You clean up nice! It's a nice change to see you not looking like shit all the time.” he joked.

“Thanks, dickhead. Means a lot.” 

“Hey, if I were gay, I'd hit.” he mentioned. I laughed.

“Okay dude. We all know you have a man crush, but I don't think your lovely friend would give her number to a guy banging his room-mate. So you gonna tell me who she is?” 

“Her names Catie. Hot right? She's really chill, I mean, she seems to be really down to earth.”

“I feel like I've seen her somewhere.” I said offhandedly.

“Well I visit her bar all the time, but I think that's the first time you've seen her, weird.” he replied, walking to the window.

“Dude, do you know anyone who owns a limo? Because if not, I think your rides here.” I glanced over his shoulder. 

“That couldn't be for me. I'm gonna go check, might be the wrong house.”

“Have fun.” was all I heard before closing the door behind me. Missing Bob's smile completely.

Xxx

I stepped out of the glass doors and approached the drivers side door, the window came down almost immediately. I was greeted with a man who was no older than forty,

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“I was just wondering if you were looking for someone and had the wrong house.”

“Is your name Frank Iero?” he asked. I nodded.

“Then this ride is for you. Jump in.” he stepped out and held the door open for me.

“So where are we going?” the chauffeur smiled.

“Be patient, Mr. Iero, we'll be there shortly." I took in the fast approaching areas with confusion, but somehow I felt safe.

About fifteen minutes later, I felt the car come to a halt, and my door being opened. I stepped out, and took in the people, all of which were scantily clad woman, and confident men in suits by there sides. I was at a club. The name “Allure” catching me.

“Go up to the bouncer, and state your name, you are V.I.P.” I turned to the man who was now back in the limo.

“Thanks.”

“You're welcome Mr. Iero. By the way, happy birthday.” and then he was gone. Leaving me alone with my rapid confused thoughts.

“My name is Frank Iero, I was told I was on the list.” I told the bouncer at the entrance who let me in with ease. I took in the sexual atmosphere as I weaved my way through grinding bodies trying to find anyone who would tell me why I was invited to come here. The bass pulsed in my ear as I sat down at the bar, and ordered a scotch on the rocks. 

“This place is beautiful.” I told the bartender as she served me. She smirked, as if she knew something I didn't.

“Yes, it is. But this is just the lower ring of the club, there are four more levels. If you think this is beautiful, just wait. Also, here's a bit of information. Keep an open mind.” she handed me my drink, and walked over to another patron. Leaving me alone.

“Well, well, well, I'm shocked you came, Frankie.” came that all too familiar seductive voice in my ear. I turned.

“Gerard.” I breathed, feeling him slip his arm around my shoulder. He wore an all black shirt, with the first few undone, along with the tightest black jeans I have ever seen, the ring on his left hand was identical to mine. His eyes had a bit of liner around the tear ducts making his hazel color pop.

“The clothes fit you nicer then I could imagine.” then it clicked, entirely.

“You.” was all I could muster.

“Me.” he replied. “Now, I think you're ready.”

“How did you- why-” he put his finger to my lips. I felt myself become aroused at the look in his eyes.

“In time.” he whispered. He guided me fluidly up the stairs. Walking past people making out, and dry humping each other. Gerard laughed at my looks of curiosity, as we were greeted by a beautiful brunette, wearing a leather corset and a black silk skirt standing by the mahogany wooded doors

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you, Janine.”

“Will you be visiting other levels?”

“No. he's new.” was all he said, as she stepped aside and allowed us through. I felt him pull me, as the beats of the music filled my ears. I stared at the sights in front of me, women with dresses barely covering them, wearing collars like you would put on a dog, as if they were owned. Gerard was watching me, my reactions.

“Does this bother you?” he asked, sincerely. I shook my head as I felt growing arousal. I watched a young looking girl kneeling in front of a guy who pointed to the floor. I saw him pat her head, he leaned down as captured her lips in the deep kiss. she locked eyes on me when she was done, and smiled, nodding as if she understand.

“Maybe it's about time, you know something about me.” he motioned. “Before I do, I need to know if I made the right choice.” was all he said before I was pulled flush against him, I could of sworn he felt my dick twitch as he kissed me hard. My brain went blank, and everything fell silent. His lips were perfection, before I had a chance to even reject him, my mouth was working against him effortlessly, I opened with no hesitation as his tongue flicked mine, making me shutter. I held his neck tightly as he grinded his hips into me. I moaned hesitantly, not used to this feeling of sexuality. His teeth grazed my pulse Then he released me. Keeping eye contact.

“Are you afraid?” his voice was low. I looked into his hazel eyes and answered in complete and utter truth.

“No. I will never be afraid, Gerard."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story, this is also posted on a few other sites as well, but this is going to get graphic and I'd rather post it here.
> 
> I am not sure how long it will be but it is NOT complete. Comments are appreciated, be gentle!


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